


Damsel

by rasberryberet



Category: Thunderbirds, Thunders Are Go!
Genre: Damsel in Distress, F/M, Female reader insert, Older Man/Younger Woman, PWP, Reader Insert, Smoking, Smut, condom use, fluffy sex, urbex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:20:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26262562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rasberryberet/pseuds/rasberryberet
Summary: After an Urbex adventure goes wrong you're saved by a handsome stranger.
Relationships: Parker/Female Reader, Parker/Reader
Kudos: 9





	Damsel

**Author's Note:**

> A VERY VERY Overdue Commission for the lovely @dispalyofshame on twitter! She's so nice and patient through these tough times and I hope this story is able to cheer her up :)

You squint through the sights of your binoculars. Your gaze falling on the smokestacks of an abandoned factory, standing like tall fingers against the bleak cloudy sky. It was only a few miles away from your tiny apartment in the city...you could easily make a day of it. Warily you lower your binoculars, casting a glance at the pile of paperwork that awaited you in a messy spread that covered the surface of your work desk.

Modern living as an independent, hard working professional woman may have been financially rewarding but man did it suck ass at times. Now was one of those times. You set your binoculars down on the windowsill, sighing heavily. Another day maybe?

The day finally came a few weeks later, with your paperwork sorted away and a rucksack filled to the brim with little tools and snacks for your adventure you struck out. A pep was in your step as you crossed over a set of neglected train tracks at the very edges of the city limits. Tiny sprouts of grass and dandelions sprung between the rusty slats of the rails and you were careful to step around them to avoid crushing them. Little signs of genuine organic life were few and far between, you wanted to savour it as best as you could.

Your modern life bored you to death with it’s perfect, bleak stillness, it’s high white walls and clean, sleek lines. There were never any curves or tangents, no lovable imperfections for you to admire. Everything was by the same cookie cutter design praising conformity and falling in line with all the rest. It may have seemed childish to stick up your nose at the society in the way that you did that your defiance had a point.

All your life you’d been fascinated by the natural world, exploring the tiny patch of wilderness that you grew up in that was yet untouched by man. When you were little you would spend hours at a time poking your head into animal dens and exploring little alcoves and caves. The towering heights of the factory's dilapidated smokestacks reminded you very much of the wizened boughs of ancient pines. 

Wrought iron gates rose up in your vision about three heads higher than yourself, ivy twisting and winding around the aged and warped metal. You touched them faintly, careful not to touch the vines themselves lest you be left with an itch on your palms. The central gates were chained together and locked, much to your disappointment. You pout for a moment, afraid that your adventure was ending before it ever had a chance to properly begin. As much as you hated it you were in no shape or condition to climb the fence as it was. Your arms ached as you imagined the strain of having to scale such an imposing gate without anything to assist you in your endeavors.

You wove your fingers around the bars, tugging uselessly at them for a few moments. Even though you heard the tiniest squeak and rustle of the chains your efforts were fruitless, the gates staying firmly shut, not even giving you the satisfaction of an opening to squeeze through. You wipe your now raw and reddened palms on your shorts, hands on your hips as you purse your lips, trying to think of a new way to get into the building. An idea strikes you after a moment of contemplation - another entrance! - there had to be another entrance! You practically jog around the perimeter of the high fence, trying to find the back gate that no doubt had to exist. Nature had started to reclaim more of the fence along the edges as you explored, trying your best not to get tangled in the thorny bushes or thick vines that cuddled up to the iron fencing. It took you a few precarious movements to find your way around the building, almost slipping in the mud and falling several times before you got to what you were searching for.

Covered over with the meandering branches of a little shrub and other brush was the back gate. Obviously meant for cars to go through. It was padlocked as well but since the gate itself was much much lower, climbing it wouldn’t be nearly as much of a challenge. 

You took a chance at it, hoping that it would be a little like mounting a bike or a horse as you swung a leg over the solid metal. You steadied yourself by wrapping your hands around the top rail of the gate, wobbling slightly as you found your balance and leaned back on your haunches.

This side of the building displayed a huge faded arch with cracked tiles that spelt out the words 

“  
You hadn’t the foggiest idea of who this Robinson was or what became of his paper company but to say your interest was piqued was an understatement. A wellspring of curiosity was fit to burst within you as you swung yourself into a sitting position up on the gate, using your hands to steady yourself. Your feet hung, kicking lightly as you took in the odd beauty of the crumbling complex. The once bright red bricks were faded to an ugly brown, the ceramic tiles cracked and yellowed with age. The dark green leaves of flowering ivy spread in stunning erratic patterns all over the stones, joined by tall, unkempt grass and even some rebellious little dwarf sunflowers.

Two huge double doors stood at the top of a short staircase, the big shapes of the once clear windows formed a soft arc. The surface of the glass was clouded over with dust and debris and cracked in places but you couldn’t resist the urge you had to run right up and peek in like a curious child. Swinging down you dismounted the gate and strode right up the short stairs and right up to the dusty double doors.

Their surface shone a warbled, twisted reflection of your curious face as you approached. Inwardly you were glad to pull on your gardening gloves at this point, not keen on getting your fingers caked in dust and god-knows-what else. 

Cupping your hands gently you brought your face to the glass, hoping to peek through the dirty surface to see if anything of interest could be found. You were greeted by the murky image of a completely empty room, a foyer of some kind? The thought only had you more curious as you pulled away from the door.

Even though it was severely rusted and hung limp around the handles of the door the chain that bound them held firm, even when you tugged with all of your might. You pouted, hissing out a stream of breath, the cords of muscle in your arms protesting. You didn’t want to use them so soon but you didn’t really have much of a choice at this point...

Tossing down your heavy rucksack with a solid  
you unzipped it and began fervently digging.  
you mutter to yourself, pushing aside a rolled up jacket and a sack lunch as your fingers wiggled further into the pack.

At the bottom of the heap your fingers brushed against a rubber handle and you smiled in relief.

Your trusty pair of bolt cutters came into view with a swift full-bodied tug. Their sharp metallic jaws caught the glint of the afternoon sun, gleaming as brightly as the grin you sported on your face. The red rubber grips felt snug and secure in your palm as you lined up the business end of the snips with the offended chain. With a hard squeeze you felt the jaws clamp with a loud  
You squeezed harder, feeling the jaws break through the flimsy chain like butter.

The old chain crumpled into a heap at the foot of the large doors, rising a bit of dust. You hoped against hope that the door wasn’t jammed and wouldn’t need too much prying and convincing to open. Wiping your hands on your jeans you took a deep breath before placing your hands squarely on each of the doors. You spread your feet to shoulder-width and grounded yourself in preparation for a hefty push. Leaning into it you shoved with all of your might, a brief screech met your ears as the door protested against your intentions.

You pushed harder, your feet sliding a little in the dust on the stoop with the exertion of your pushing. The door finally came ajar with a sudden release of stale pressurized air and you almost came toppling down in the entrance way, barely stopping yourself as you stumbled inside. 

Finding your footing you stared in wonder at the large, ornate skylight on the ceiling, though it was overgrown with dark leaves and foliage sunlight still pierced through. The light fell in dark green and honey yellow dapples all over the tile floors, abstracted by the designs of swirls on the glass. It was breathtaking to say the least and you found yourself staring in wonder at the dust motes that swirled in the shafts of light.

This lobby area seemed frozen in time. 

Brochures for the factory tour were scattered all over the floor, their bright, plasticy exteriors faded with the ravages of time. Carefully you crouched down, brushing your fingers against a brightly colored flyer. The second you touched the paper - real paper! - you pulled back as though you were burnt. The texture, the grain, the feel of the thing, it felt so foreign to you.

It was real paper alright, the genuine article, not that fake stuff you had cluttering up your apartment. At this discovery a strange giddiness settled over you as you wondered what other relics and treasures of a bygone era you could dig up in your exploration of this place. What may have passed for mundane in years gone by seemed whimsical, groundbreaking and magical to you now. The power of hindsight you thought with a grin. 

The next hour was spent with you exploring the large lobby. There was very little furniture left in the lobby, and what little was left was falling into decay. Many of the benches and sitting chairs meant for guests were flipped upside down or shoved against the far wall, the stuffing and padding that gave them their shape falling on the floor through rat-chewed holes.

A faint skittering coming from a pile of couch cushions discouraged you from coming any closer, your attention instead focussing on the smashed up glass of the guest services booth.

In the afternoon sun the shards of glass caught the light and broke it into tiny rainbows all over the dusty tiles. Crunching over the glass you were careful to watch where you put your hands as you leaned over the sill to peek inside the booth to find…

Nothing. 

With a small, almost inaudible huff of disappointment, you hoisted yourself up over the sill of the window, much in the same way you did with the gate. Your boots came into contact with a half-collapsed desk on the inside of the booth, giving you a much appreciated steady landing before you could fully put your boots on the floor again. Still gripping the windowsill for support you gracefully (as graceful as you could) found your footing. 

The inside of the booth was in a similar state of disrepair as the rest of the lobby had been. Steel shelves that lined the back wall, meant to hold folders and documents were barren. Their contents scattered over the floor to form a carpet of yellowed old papers that rattled like autumn leaves under your boots. The papers fascinated you to no end, and despite your best intuition screaming at you not to you bent down to touch them. 

They were real, real genuine paper, and even though you were in a paper mill the fact still prompted a little jolt. How long had it been since you’d touched real paper? Real paper from real trees and not the synthetic cellulose sheets your job or school had given out. 

Fascinated you rubbed the wrinkled old documents between two of your fingers, feeling the faint texture and shape of the wrinkles. You felt silly to indulge yourself but there was just something so strange and enigmatic about your discovery. The words on the page were heavily faded but you could tell that they’d been typed and printed once upon a time. You tucked this stray page into your jacket pocket alongside the plasticy brochure from earlier. 

Whatever office furnishings and other amenities that once existed to help the clerks do their jobs were mostly stripped from the room. You could imagine, in some distant corner of your mind, that this used to be a bustling hub of comings and goings.

You could imagine the clerks sitting with their heads down and hurriedly filling out forms and checking guests in and out. They would’ve been like busy little worker bees going about their tasks, reminding you a little of yourself unintentionally. 

The door molding had been striped as well, leaving a raw wooden rectangle in the back wall where the door had once been. The hallway beyond was dark and dusty, the sunlight not reaching all the way back, you hesitated slightly at that. 

You didn’t ignore the chill that crawled up the back of your neck when, in the soft yawning darkness of the doorway, you heard the tiniest skittering noise. You’d encountered a lot of different things in your years spent exploring ruins from the past. Everything from mundane forest critters to a rather lively vagrant that seemed intent on sticking his knife in your soft midsection. 

Trying to steel yourself as best you can as you approach the door, the skittering and faint scratching only getting louder in volume. Your shoes slid against the concrete floor as you approached the doorway, a chill rising up the back of your neck as you went. 

Your fingers hooked around the rectangle-shaped hole where the door once stood, your hands shaky as you clicked on the flashlight that was attached to your jacket. The weak beam flickered for a moment before panning into the dark room. The small circle of yellow light landed on a pile of crumpled papers toward the back corner of the room.

It looked remarkably like a nest to you and you were careful to tread lightly. You didn’t want to have to risk waking up some angry critter that would no doubt be after the protein bars you had hidden in your pockets. Carefully you stuck to the wall of what you now realized was a hallway, scooting yourself carefully along as to not attract attention. As you went you felt the old paint chipping and crumbling beneath your fingers, your flashlight beam catching the glint of two crimson orbs.

They were eyes.

Shit shit shit, you repeated in your head, stilling immediately as soon as the enigmatic eyes locked onto your form. You tried your best to stay completely still, biting your tongue to try and quiet your breath and rapidly beating heart. 

The eyes swayed side to side for a moment, coming closer to you at an agonisingly slow clip that had your hackles raised. You scooted a few feet away, the eyes, which had to be no more than two or three yards away made a lunge for you and you jumped away. Unfortunately for you you’d jumped right onto a weaker part of the floor. 

It sagged heavily under your weight for a moment, already having been softened and battered by years of leaking pipes and weathering. You slipped in an oily puddle and ended up on your backside, the floor sagging even more under your weight. Panicking slightly you attempted to slide or at least drag yourself to safety but the floor gave way before you could formulate a plan of attack. 

With a mighty crashing and a short scream from you you fell into a puddle with a splash. Your world was a wash of murky, dirty water, panic surging in your heart as you couldn’t immediately find your way up. Every bit of strength you had went into vigorous thrashing and paddling to try and break the filthy surface of the water. 

After a few heartstopping moments you succeeded, your head breaching the surface of the water with a frantic, astonished gasp. Your eyes, still stinging and slightly blurry from the water scanned your surroundings, finding yourself to be in some kind of basement. The drab walls were dark with rot and mold and the air was stifling and smelled particularly foul. 

Looking up into the hole from where you fell you were surprised to see the eyes from earlier peering at you. Almost delirious from your plunge you fumbled with the light - still floating alongside you - for a few moments before you pointed it upwards..

A cat. It was a regular old housecat peering at you.

A frustrated sigh that was half annoyance and half relief sputtered out of your lips at the sight. You felt supremely stupid for being so flustered and afraid of a scruffy old cat that you ended up falling through a hole in the floor. The cat’s whiskers twitched in amusement as it watched you flounder through the water toward a half submerged desk. 

You scrambled for purchase onto the peeling and warped surface of the desk. Your pack was weighing you down something awful but you managed to struggle your way to a semi-comfortable position on the desk. The old cat eyed you warily, as if it expected you to leap back up at him. 

You decided to ignore him for the time being, focussing on trying to make sense of your surroundings and the possibility of finding a way out. Sitting up you shed your pack and the outer layer of your outfit, it brought little relief as you were still soaked to the bone. 

Shivering a little you took a quick glance around. The lower room you’d fallen into was half-filled with murky water that ate up the weak beam of your flashlight. From what little the beam revealed to you you could see stacks of rusted office chairs and other furniture sitting in the water. You stand up a little shakily on the slick surface of the desk, waving your flashlight over your surroundings.

There had to be some kind of other entrance or exit out of this place. Even if it was half submerged you were sure that it would be safer to try and wade through the dark water than to try and climb back up through the hole. When you looked back up at the hole you were surprised to see that the old cat had left, perhaps savoring the victory of kicking out a rival from its territory. 

Focussing on the task at hand you brought your attention back to the basement you were trapped in, your roaming flashlight finally finding what it was looking for - a door. More accurately it was the half closed gate of the freight elevator that was no more than ten or so feet from where you were standing. The water made it look much much farther though. The oily surface of it wavered under the beam of your light, sucking it up so that you couldn’t see what lurked beneath or how deep it was. 

Tentatively you reached for your bolt cutters in your bag. They were about the length of your leg from kneecap to hip so they’d be an accurate depth gauge. You hated subjecting your poor cutters to this kind of treatment but it was an emergency. 

“Sorry about this..” you muttered to yourself, slowly dropping the cutters down into the water while you kept a firm grip on the handles.

The cutters sunk down to the halfway point and you cringed. That would mean that the water would be up around your thighs and hips as you waded through it. You really weren’t looking forward to doing that but in all honesty, it wasn’t like you had much of a choice. Taking a deep, fortifying breath you rolled up the cuffs of your shorts and slowly dipped your foot into the water. 

The murky surface of the water broke and seemed to swallow your leg whole with it’s darkness, you felt your foot touch a solid, flat surface once you put it down flat - a floor? The water was up to your mid thigh, soaking into your sneakers and dampening the fabric of your vest top which irritated you but it could’ve been worse you supposed. Sliding off of the desk you put your other leg into the water and tried to find your balance. The sensation of the water was almost thick around your legs and it was quite disorientating. 

Still you soldiered on, at this point more focussed on getting the hell out of here than on crying over spilled milk. You lamented the fact that you hadn’t truly gotten to explore and that your little day trip and turned almost fatal because of one spectacular fuck up after another. You were halfway to the door now, making sure to take measured steps so that you wouldn’t stumble. The air was heavy with the scent of stale air and mold and you swore that you’d sneezed at least six times as you made your grand journey across the room because of all the dust motes and mold spores in the air around you. 

The agonizing trek took a little over fifteen minutes but it felt like hours, treading against the resistance of the water hadn’t been fun. You would have to remind yourself to stick to your workout plan when you got home. Just in case you wanted to repeat the predicament you found yourself in currently. Stopping to catch your breath by the half raised garage door you found yourself curiously peering beyond the door. Squinting through the inky darkness you could barely make out a fuzzy light at the end of the long hall. Your heart leap into your throat, nervous optimism unfurling in your veins as you ducked under the garage door. 

Any fatigue that was bogging you down was ignored now, as were your muscles that cramped in protest. Your legs seemed to creak under you as you forced yourself onward, sloshing through the thigh-deep water with such force that you sounded more like a stampede of wild mustangs and less like a girl in trouble. Inwardly you were singing praises to any lofty deity that had decided to take pity on you and grant you an escape from this dark murky hell…

You were halfway through a garbled hymn of joy when your feet slid out from under you, traitorous shoes unable to handle the incline the pavement had taken. You stumbled on the incline, sloshing messily as your hands scrambled for something to hold onto or break your fall. Finding nothing gravity dragged you down and you were barely able to save yourself from biting off your tongue tip when you once again fell face first into the water. This time you were able to drag yourself up out of the shallow water much quicker than the last time.

With a little more anger mixed into the joy of your escape you crawled the last few meters to the bright opening. Your eyes were foggy and unfocused from the dirty water, even after you stubbornly scrubbed at them. What little you could see was blurred, just simple blobby shapes of foliage and the indistinct, distant silhouette of a sleek black town car. Stumbling into the harsh light of the early evening you caught sight of a figure getting out of the black car. Your heart froze with fear at first, worried that you’d accidentally been spotted by a security guard or worse - a police officer. You didn’t have the time (or money) to talk your way out of a stay in the local jail. But even as your thoughts spun in your head, contradicting statements flying between wanting to run or wanting to ask for help you could feel a numbness settling into your bones. 

The figure was sliding into your view, he was an older white man - silver hair, dimpled cheeks, and… dare you say it?  
The handsome man was speaking but it all sounded garbled to you, your vision was growing foggier by the second. His big warm hands clasp on your shoulders and you tried to open your mouth, tried to focus anywhere but his lips but it was losing battle, as was your fight to keep conscious. You fainted right there into the arms of the mortified stranger who shifted in the mud to hold you carefully.

Parker was no stranger to hauling bodies - he’d done that plenty in his more thuggish days - but gently cradling a woman was out of his element. He shifted your weight so you leaned more comfortably into him and made the short walk back to the black car. The call for a missing woman had gone out at twelve o’clock sharp and it was already four-thirty by the time he’d gotten here. Deep down he knew that he should’ve let the boys handle this but they’d gotten wrapped up in other business and he thought ‘why the hell not?’ considering his duties at home were pretty much done by the time he'd set out to find Y/N.

Carefully he pulled her into the back seat of the car, doing his best to lay her down gently, she stirred minimally and Parker placed a palm over her forehead to gauge her temperature. Her forehead was burning up, her entire body sopping wet and covered in goosebumps. He frowned, wondering what had led her to the abandoned paper factory in the first place and what had led her to be so horribly sickened. He pulled off the top layer of her clothes, folding up the wet vest into a plastic bag to throw into the trunk with her rucksack. Try as he might Parker’s eyes lingered a little too long on the soft expanse of her chest. She was dressed modestly and practically but the light-colored undershirt she was wearing had become see-through and clingy from all the water, showing her ample chest. 

It didn’t help that he hadn’t felt a woman’s touch in lord knows how long, though Parker knew that was no excuse for how he ogled her. Her skin looked so soft, so smooth. He risked brushing the back of his hand against the clammy, feverish skin of her throat and collarbones, shivering.The woman’s face was angelic, soft cheeks and long eyelashes, her plump, soft-looking lips were parted slightly and her eyebrows were knit together in what looked like discomfort. Her bright auburn hair stuck to her forehead in swirls and ringlets while her long braid trailed messily down her back. Gently Parker drew his hand over her round face, pulling back some of the tangled ginger hair and patted her cheek. 

“  
Parker chuckled to himself, pulling carefully out of the old dirt road and back onto the gravel road that led to the railway crossing. 

The drive back to his apartment was a quiet one, no calls from the boys or Lady Penelope. It was odd but Parker welcomed it, it helped him calm down a little. While his “Rescue” of the young damsel in the back seat wasn’t a memorable adventure it still got him just the tiniest bit excited. It was a rare occasion to respond to a call by himself and the fact that he’d been there when the young lady fainted made pride swell in his chest - just a little. 

Your eye fluttered open to see the darkened ceiling of a car, while you would’ve wanted very much to sit up, the pounding in your head was keeping you from doing so. Though your vision was still a little bit foggy you could distinguish the motion of a dark silhouette that was separated from the darkness outside of the car. The silhouette opened the door by your head and your eyes snapped to meet his. It was the handsome older man from before, and he was looking at you with just a touch of mirth in his bright blue eyes, you managed to sit up then, covering your chest protectively. You didn’t know if he’d taken a peek or not but you thought it was better to be safe rather than sorry. Scooting into a seated position on the backseat you sheepishly smiled at the man, voice a little hoarse,

“So-sorry about getting your back seat wet Mister, didn’t mean to faint on you like that - honest,” 

The man’s voice was thick with an accent when he replied, “ Ain’ nothin a lil to’el can’ fix miss, yew fain’ed and I didn’ really ‘ave a choice a’ where t’ put ‘ya”

You rubbed at the back of your neck self consciously, aware of the vivid blush that was spreading across your chest and cheeks. Distantly you wondered if he’d taken a peek at your chest and saw the blush creeping across it because he guffawed a loud laugh, seemingly at your expense. You laughed along out of obligation, fiddling with your hangnails as you struggled to meet the man’s enigmatic gaze. You found that he was looking right back at you when you dared glance up, his eyes were soft and a slight smile curled at his lips. He was the picture of non-threatening. Old, graying, with charming crows feet around his eyes and laugh lines around his mouth. You decided that there was no harm in trusting him, at least for now.

“Com’on now miss, gotta get yew all pach’ed up ‘n get yew outta those wet clo’es ‘a yers,” He gestured with his hand, intending you to take it so he could help you.

You did, his warm calloused palm was a contrast to your clammy skin, his touch made you shiver slightly, his grip was firm and confident. Standing made your head swim with vertigo but he was there for you, patiently waiting for you to adjust. Once your eyes stopped pulsing you looked back up at him to find that he was peeking at you with a flash of something in his eyes that made your stomach tie in knots. His lips were slightly parted and his breath came out in slow, even huffs, you felt yourself flicking your eyes between his lips and his eyes for a long moment. Both of you seemed to be waiting for the next move that neither was brave enough to make. He cleared his throat, breaking the spell that you’d found yourself under and you cut your eyes away to save yourself the horrid embarrassment clawing at your throat.

He looped your arm in his and set a slow pace up to the staircase at the side of the garage. Your feet felt like lead as the man gently pulled you along. Walking up the stairs was horrible on your achy body but the man was patient with you, with your slow pace and with the fact you had to stop and take a breath for a couple seconds at the top of the stairs.You lean into his body, letting your weight rest in his arms, head against his chest. He says nothing while your breath blows in soft puffs against the fabric of his sweater, his hand patting comfortingly at the middle of your back. 

His apartment was small with walls decorated with pictures and quaint furniture. It was cluttered enough to feel comfortable yet clean enough to let you know that he didn’t spend a lot of time here. You collapsed into a straight backed wooden chair while the man disappeared. Normally you’d never have agreed to being alone in a strange man’s home but you supposed that your fall and subsequent fainting episode had shaken all of the sense out of you. Despite your soggy clothes you almost dozed off in the wooden chair, only to be gently shaken awake by the man. He smiled politely although a faint pink dusted his cheeks and his tone was sheepish,

“Aye Missy got’a ge’chu ou’a those wet clo’hes, ‘ave a wash up while I put on th’ ke’tle,”

Your cheeks flushed horribly, looking away from him to try and cut the tension. Parker coughed politely to try and ease the awkwardness but it did nothing to help you feel better,

“I-uh-um I don’t mean to be rude-sir-” You started shakily, still not looking at him.

“Parker.” He supplies with a tiny smile, “Name ‘s Parker m’dear,” 

“Right-Pa-Parker sir-” You were struggling to find your words unfortunately, “I don’t have any clothes that I can - uh - change into” You gestured with your hands, curling and uncurling your fingers in your lap

“I won’t let yew walk aroun’ naked a’ promise!” Parker laughed after a moment of genuine surprise, not helping ease your horrible mortification.  
You did NOT want to think about being..naked around a man like him. He seemed harmless but you weren’t entirely known for your iron will when it came to men who tickled your fancy, and you had a feeling that he felt the same way. 

“Laid out ‘a jumper n’ some skivvies for ‘yew missy go on ‘n get washed up,” He said with a sheepish little half smile, “ I’ll go ‘n put on a th’ ke’tle to help ‘ya warm up,”

Parker helped you to your feet and pointed you at a tiny bare door at the end of the corridor, the bathroom he said. You went on your way, muscles aching terribly as you shuffled into the tiny bathroom at the end of the hallway. As promised a folded up old sweater and pair of ridiculously oversized men’s boxer shorts were waiting for you on the toilet tank lid. Carefully you stripped yourself of your wet clothes, grateful that Parker hadn’t done the job himself when you’d fainted earlier.

He must’ve carried you to his car and driven you home after you’d passed out, the thoughtfulness of his actions caused you to pause.. Why was he doing all of this? Strangers weren’t known for being generous or being especially kind in these days and worry gnawed at your gut at the prospect that this was all some kind of trap that he was carefully luring you into. The fear was there, the rational part of your brain supplying amble, terrifying images of what this Parker fellow could have in store for you. Thoughts of being killed and made into tea cakes and soaps floated through your mind grimly. You turned the shower water high enough that steam wafted off of the water to try and distract yourself.

The water pressure practically pummeled you as you stood under the spray, the almost scalding water massaging your battered muscles and frigid skin. As awkward as this whole thing felt you were grateful to be out of your soggy clothes. The crumpled little pile of garments were currently sitting in the sink as you didn’t want to ruin his tile flooring with the nasty blackish-brown water they were soaked in. 

It’d been quite a while since you’d showered somewhere other than your own home. The shower caddy was practically empty aside from a bottle of shampoo, a couple crusty bars of soap, a tub of shaving cream, and wash cloth hanging on one of the hooks at the bottom of the plastic contraption. You hazarded a try of his shampoo, taking a curious wiff, surprised to find that it smelt quite mellow and pleasant. More like a forest after rainfall and less like a high school locker room. 

Not wanting to overstep boundaries by using his soap or washcloth you squeezed a hardy dollop of the shampoo into your hands, rubbing just a little into your scalp. The rest of your handful was smeared across your body in an impromptu attempt at body wash. The lather didn’t quite catch but still you lathered yourself into your hands were numb and your the corners of your eyes stung from soap bubbles. Stepping back under the spray you let the water carry away all the dirt from your skin. The water was as soothing and warm as a blanket as it serenely cascaded over your bumps and bruises. You sighed, almost not wanting to step out of the shower, wanting to spend just a little more time formulating your game plan. 

But your skin was getting itchy from the heat and you knew you’d be horribly flushed and uncomfortably hot in your jumper if you stayed in here any longer.  
So reluctantly you snapped the knob into the off position, standing with your head lowered, watching as tiny droplets of water fell from the wet ends of your hair. In the silence of the bathroom you finally had room to think, your head was a little clearer than when you’d walked in here just a few minutes ago. 

The way the Man had spoken to you was so gentle and kind, you hated yourself for feeling the slightest tickle of giddy butterflies in your stomach when you thought of his smile or his hearty laugh. Your fears were irrational, you told yourself, stepping out of the shower and wrapping yourself in your towel. Parker was simply a kindly good samaritan who was maybe a little lonely in his old age. That was why he’d held you so delicately, why he’d patted your back and smiled with that cute bashful flush on his face when you’d woken up. 

You threw on the sweater and boxers, checking yourself self consciously in the mirror. There were small bruises blooming under the skin under your eye and near your chin, looking angry and dark purple already. Though bruises were quite severe, you couldn’t remember if Parker had brought them up.

Had he been as busy studying your features as you had with him, to notice?

You were blushing like a schoolgirl again, the dark bruises overtaken momentarily but an even reddening of your face. Carefully you combed your hands through your hair, twisting the damp locks into a messy bun atop your head, absentmindedly you pulled a few curly stands out to frame your face. Distantly you could hear Parker fumbling in the kitchen and a bright idea came to mind. There had to be a way to thank him, he’d been nice enough to not only save you, but to give you a chance to shower, dress in clean clothes, and a warm place to lay your bones. 

Opening the door the cool air of the hallway chilled your now clean skin and you awkwardly waddled out into the corridor. Peeping around the corner you caught Parker’s bright blue eyes. He glanced up at you, looking for a few minutes, a flash of something darker in his eyes that sent your stomach rolling with masked excitement - had he felt the same way? The dark look was gone in seconds, replaced with a cheery countenance as he let out a chuckle, 

“Feelin’ any bet’er dear?” He asked in his charming accent, grey eyebrows rising and dimpled cheeks grinning. 

“I’m feeling quite a bit better, thank you very much,” You returned with an even smile, “I just needed to throw my dirty clothes in the wash,”

Parker took the kettle off of the burner and stepped toward you, your eyes flashed down for a moment, catching a glimpse of his bare forearms. He’d rolled his sleeves up, probably just to wash his hands before making tea but his arms looked powerful, strong from years of work. You chewed the inside of your bottom lip, willing the tiny ache in your lower belly to go away. He touched your elbow and you nearly jumped at the contact. His touch was so warm and it was like electricity to you, jolting you out of your session of ogling. He coaxed the bundle of sopping wet clothes out of your arms and you felt a little bad for troubling him,

“Go ‘n ‘ave a seat love I’ll just chuck these n’ th’ wash n be back out in a sec’” He moved around you and you shuffled over to the tiny breakfast nook table. The seat squeaked a little when you sat down, two cracked, mismatched ceramic cups set out in front of you. Each cup had a mismatched saucer, as well as a little box of sugar cubes at your left side. The kettle was still steaming hot, resting on a tattered oven mitt and you shakily poured yourself a cup of the hot beverage.

Parker was back before you realized it but you could feel his eyes on you as you poured. He settled in across from you, you pass the kettle, fingers brushing against his and you feel your lips twitch up. He pours himself a cup as well, using tiny tongs to plop a few sugar cubes into his cup,

“I’m sorry to cause so much trouble Mister Parker, thank you for being there when you were.” 

“Dinna need t’ worry love! ‘S my job to ‘elp people out’a tight spots!” He shot back cheerfully, “Don’ need t’ pay me back neither, yew bein’ safe is reward enough..”

You squirmed when his bright eyes peered at you over the rim of his cup, the hot ache from before worsening by the second. You were sure he’d object to the proposition you had in mind but it was worth a shot, worth an attempt at ending your self-imposed dry spell. It would’ve been a nice way to pay him back, even if he’d said you didn’t have to. You had a feeling he would feel more receptive to your charms in return for your safety instead of money.

Sipping at your still piping hot tea you replied in a husky tone, “But I really should, you’ve been so kind to let me stay here. There has to be...something I can do for you Mister Parker..” 

You scooted your chair closer to his under the table, not missing how his grip tightened on his cup to the point his knuckles turned white. You started to lay it on thick, leaning down your hand to touch the man’s bouncing knee, patting it gently. He was about as nervous as you were and you grinned. Blood rushed hot in your ears, nerves alive with veiled excitement You leaned in closer, wrapping your arms around Parker’s bicep, thrilled to find his muscles tensing and twitching under your touch.

Clearing his throat Parker set his still very full cup down on the table, his voice a little shakier than before, a touch more hesitant, 

“You ‘aven’t got’a do anythin’ Love..though-” He paused for moment, his eyes shone hopeful and nervous, your lips parting as your own eyes fell on his mouth, “I wouldn’t mind ‘avin’ yew to keep me company- jus’ for th’ night..” 

You could feel your heartbeat pounding under your skin as he gently cupped your jaw in his calloused hand. You had to tilt your head up just a little to meet his eyes, his thumb ran over your bottom lip and your eyes fluttered shut. Whether it was out of embarrassment or because you were just too nervous you weren’t sure but just when you were about to apologize you felt the soft press of lips on yours. He was kissing you, by God he was kissing you!

You returned the gesture with a little more pressure than he had, fingers curling into the fabric of his turtleneck. Feeling Parker’s breath stutter against you was heavenly and you prodded curiously at the seam of his lips with your tongue, seeking to deepen your kiss with him. With a soft grunt he obliged you, opening his mouth to welcome your tongue while his own explored the soft velvet of your mouth. He tasted like the tea he’d poured, almost sickly sweet and undoubtedly sticky from all the sugar he’d put in it, it had you coming back for more.

His thumb stroked gently over your cheekbone while you two kissed at a leisurely pace, parting and coming together with the speed of molasses. Your hand on his knee shifted up toward his thigh, drawing absentminded patterns into the fabric of his slacks when he broke the kiss,

“Could I interest yew ‘n movin’ this to th’ bedroom love?” He inquired with a throaty chuckle and you nod without giving yourself time to second guess yourself. Parker disentangled himself from you, pushing back from the table to reveal a bulge in his trousers that you were sure hadn’t been there before. You giggled to yourself, unable to keep your eyes from gluing themselves onto it,

“I can see you’re already enjoying my company Parker..” You purred, letting him pull you by the hand around the corridor and down into a door at the far left side of it. It must’ve been his bedroom as when he opened the door you could see a bed shoved against the far wall with a few other sparse furnishings.

You plopped yourself down onto the bed, fluffing and adjusting your hair as you watched Parker’s back slowly disappear into the bathroom across the hallway,

“You don’t need to get all cleaned up for me Mister Parker!” You called back teasingly.

“‘Jus needa’ get som’thin’ sit tight lov’ don’ need t’ rush me,” He replied, slightly muffled under the noise of him digging through the drawers in the bathroom.

You took the brief moment to undress yourself from the waist down and lay back onto the fluffy pillows and folded up comforter. The air in the room was cool on your exposed skin, the heat of your arousal throbbing insistently in between your legs when you pulled them together to lay on your side. Daringly you snuck your hand between your thighs,mostly just to pet your soft pubic hair and to try and tide yourself over until Parker got back. The motions of your fingers were inexact and a little sloppy, your nerves giving way as your excitement grew.

A few minutes passed before Parker emerged again, stripped down to his boxers and grinning. You sat up in bed, heat throbbing in your neglected pussy and heart pounding in your ears. He definitely didn’t look like a man his age, he had to be at least forty-five, and yet he was built like a hotblooded man in his thirties instead. A light dusting of silver hair covered the muscles of his chest and abdomen, a thicker treasure trail peeking out from under the band of his boxer shorts. You could feel yourself licking your lips and making “come hither” motions with your hands, Parker obeyed with a nervous laugh,

“Like what yew see?” He asked and you nodded. Sitting up on your haunches to admire him better. You smoothed your hands over the planes of his pectorals, loving the firmness under your touch. His hands encircled your hips, touching you over the fabric of the sweater. Again you leaned up to peck him on the lips, happy to feel the tiniest prickle of stubble. He smelled nice and mellow, like he’d just freshly put on some cologne, had he been freshening up in the bathroom for you? The thought makes your heart swell at the consideration, it made you feel a little embarrassed that you probably still smelt like his shampoo. But with the way he was fiercely returning your kisses it seemed that it didn’t bother him much.

He nudged your knees further apart as he leaned his own weight into the mattress, it creaked under your shared weight. Parker led you into a laying down position on the bed, cushioned on the small mountain of pillows he had gathered up against the headboard. You rubbed his shifting shoulder blades as his kissing moved down to your jaw and neck. The ticklish kisses had breathless giggles peeling out of you like little bells, the bright sound only interrupted by an abrupt squeak when Parker groped your chest over your sweater.

You wiggle out of the sweater, tossing it somewhere unseen as you focused in on how Parker’s eyes honed in on your tits. You squirmed under his scrutinizing gaze, worried that he didn’t like what he saw when he revealed your nudity. His eyes raked over your body and you resisted the urge to try and cover yourself, drinking in the heat of his eyes sweeping over you. One of his hands stayed on your shoulder while the other trailed down the side of your body. You shivered as his fingers ghosted over the stiffening peak of your nipple, over the soft expanse of your stomach and hip, eventually settling on your upper thigh. 

Your hand twisted in the loose hair at the nape of his neck when his hot gaze settled between your legs. He peppered more kisses over your tummy and thighs before settling between your knees. You opened up your legs so he could scoot in closer, laying on his stomach, only propped up by his elbows as he indulged himself in a long, slow lick of your slit. A high keening sigh left your lips as he kept at his task, carefully and gently licking and suckling at your lips and clit until your lower body felt like mush. How long had it been since you had been eaten out? How long had it been since you’d had it done to you so expertly? 

You wound your hand more firmly into Parker’s grey locks, bucking against the hot cradle of his mouth to grind against his tongue. His hands locked around your hips to hold you still, to better taste you and savor the sounds and squirming. Your hair fell in an auburn halo against the pillows as Parker practically devoured you. His mouth pulled away from your pussy and you whined at the loss of attention, the cold air on your damp skin sent a toe-curling chill through your body. He smiled softly to you, fingers rubbing gentle circles over your swollen clit, a line of spittle still connecting your body to his.

His lips pressed soft kisses into your stomach and the sensation was a mix of soothing and ticklish. Parker’s fingers slipped into the wet heat of your body with ease, curling two fingers against a sensitive spot on your front wall that had you breathlessly bucking up against him. He stroked over the spot gently, driving you deeper into the soft melting heat of your building orgasm. Again his lips suckled at the throbbing bud of your clit again as he pushed a third finger into you. The slight stretch was exhilarating and you laughed through the back of your hand, you couldn’t remember the last time you knew you were in for a good lay.

Parker's hot breath came in short chuffs against your thighs. His fingers pumping in you at a tempo that made stars dance behind your eyelids. 

"Oh G-God Parker if you keep it up I'll c-cum…"

He laid his stubbly cheek against the silken skin of your inner thigh, chuckling at the high squeak you let out when his fingers hit another magic spot within you,

“Didn’t mean t’ rush yew love honest-’m jus’ enjoyin m’self..” 

Parker withdrew his fingers finally, apparently satisfied with the flustered, on edge state he’d left you in before pulling away from you entirely. You eyed the bulge in his boxers, surprised and a little giddy to see it dampened with his own excitement for tasting you. He leaned over you, placing a gentle peck on your lips before reaching over to the nightstand by the bedside.

“Looking for something?” You asked a little confused as Parker dug through the top drawer, muttering to himself.

“Protection.” He grinned back.

You almost burst into giggles right then at his thoughtfulness, clapping a little as he revealed his silver-wrapped treasure.You were about to make a playful jab at him for keeping condoms around in his house casually, were you not the first damsel that he’d bed in exchange for their saving? But the dark eager look in his eyes made you think better of it, he ripped open the foil packet with his teeth,

“Close yer eyes fer me love '' He gruffed and you obeyed, eyes slipping shut serenely even if your nerves were going into overdrive. You couldn’t bite back the surprised yelp you let out when you felt something cold and wet slide over your pussy. Parker’s hot fingers rubbed at the cool wetness, thumb nudging your clit until you were mewling helplessly. Lube? Now he was just spoiling you, as if him practically devouring you wasn’t enough he was using lube too? You were in for a ride for sure.

Parker’s hands smoothed over the back of your thighs, propping them up on the mount on his hips, the outline of his cock resting peacefully against your slit. You opened your eyes to see him finally prodding at your entrance, with a soft coo he finally sunk in. Feeling the head of his cock pop in made you curl your toes, his length filling you just enough to give you a slight stretch but not enough to make you cry. Parker stilled for a moment, eyes shut and breathing slowing down to a steady rhythm while he savored the wet heat of your insides.

When he did move it was gentle. His hips moving at a lax rolling pace that had a fire stoking in your belly, begging for more. Your hands reached for anything to grab onto while he rocked into you, nails bluntly scraping along the muscles of his chest and abdomen. It was intoxicating to watch his muscles bunch and flex as he thrust into you, the slow, deliberate movements looked almost like he was holding back on you, wanting to drag out this encounter as long as he could.

You were more than fine with that, in fact, you were fast on your way to your own personal heaven. The lewd sound of his naked hips bumping into your own had you mewling into your fist, the other hand reaching down between your joined bodies to play with your clit. He picked up his pace a bit, gripping you by the thigh to keep you spread, bearing down on you with all of his weight. The pressure sends a dangerous trill down your spine. You felt yourself involuntarily tightening around him, ankles locking behind him to keep his body close to you.

He seemed to get the message, leaning down to plant sloppy open mouthed kisses on your mouth. You accepted them readily, moaning into his mouth as his thrusts jolted the both of you up and down. The headboard was smacking against the wall hard enough that you were sure that the neighbors down the hall could hear it. You didn’t really have a half a mind to care when you had Parker pressing into you, his weight leaving you pleasantly breathless as his cock bottomed out inside of you. He slowed down then, instead of his frenzied movements he was shallowly fucking you. Leaning his head against your neck while he moved his hips slowly. Your fingers wound into his hair again, holding him tightly as he sucked kisses and bites all over your neck. 

His moans were like music to your ears as he fully lost himself to the enjoyment of your body. The thought of it makes an odd spark of pride well inside of you.  
The hot pressure of his body should’ve felt smothering but instead you felt a softness and safety overtake you. Parker’s thrusts were losing there rhythm, turning choppy and rougher than necessary. The pace is enough to make you cum, crying out at the harsh way he’s fucking into you. Your reaction only amps Parker up, his pace turns almost painful for a moment before he finally stills in you with a loud grunt, teeth sinking into your collarbone.

The two of you lay there for a few moments, catching your breath. Parker pulled out of you, causing you to let out a muffled hiss. He kissed your cheek as a way to apologize, rolling off of you and reaching for something on the dresser. You scooted yourself back until you reached the wall, laying on your eyes you let your eyes slip shut again. In the dark of the room you heard the click of a lighter and the scent of fresh cigarette smoke. 

“ Yew mind if I smoke?” Parker asked and you shook your head, nuzzling under his raised arm. He placed a smoky kiss on your forehead and you cuddle under his chin, wanting to be closer.

“Anything for my savior.”

Parker laughs at that, his voice sounding warm echoing through his tiny room.


End file.
